So just so my readers know, I’m royalty now.
It’s true that my crown is a little girly and plastic, but I have it on good authority (a gaggle of giggling girls between the ages of 4 and 10) that I am a “pretty princess.”
This coronation came when my girlfriend, Wyndi and I went on a trip in the middle of the month.
The first reason we planned this trip was for me to meet her family (more on that next week), but we scheduled it to spend time with one of my best friends from high school, his wife and their five daughters.
It may sound weird to say I felt relaxed after spending a couple of days with a household that big but the couple are among my very best friends and they’ve done a great job in raising their kids.
Sure they can be loud, but they’re also well-behaved when they need to be, such as when waiting for two hours for food to arrive at a restaurant.
After being chained to chairs and inside voices for that long, they wanted to play when we got back home. The plan was for the adults to play a bluffing game called “The Sheriff of Nottingham” while the kids would play “Pretty
“Okay!” Pretty Princess.” (I apologize to all hardcore fans of the game if I got the name wrong.)
The 6-year-old started bouncing and screaming “Pretty Princess” and I encouraged her by saying, “Awesome! I wanna be a Pretty Pretty Princess!”
......I need to stop volunteering for things.
Those who are around kids more often can probably finish the story without me. “Okay!”
Before I know it, this small redheaded girl has somehow doubled her strength while trying to drag me to all the pastel, plastic jewelry that makes up the game.
I ask the adults if we’re about ready to play our game.
They were having fancy meat and cheese, so I was free to fit in a quick round of ‘Princess.’ What luck!
I was told to spin the spinner and then collect the corresponding piece of jewelry, which was helpfully fit on me by the other players who strangely never took a turn. You “win” fast when you’re the only one playing.
We played many more games including Werewolf, a social deduction game, where you are either secretly a werewolf or villager based on the card you draw.
Wyndi and I knew that the girls had formally adopted us when they started trying to lynch us as werewolves as quickly as they did their parents or sisters. Is the saying, ‘You always
Is the saying, ‘You always accuse the ones you care about?’
The confirmation came after we left when the youngest said this: “We have a Wyndi in our family. Paul and Wyndi are our family. She’s Paul’s girlfriend!”
There’s something endearing about being adopted in by the family of friends, even if they keep voting to execute you for being a werewolf.
Paul Gaudette is the managing editor at the Dublin Citizen and can be reached at 445-2515 and publisher@dublincitizen.com.